


criminal

by soudont



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Framing Story, Hate to Love, Mystery, Organized Crime, Prison, Slow Burn, also really slow updates im sORRY, butch is her cellmate, buttercup is framed, this is gonna be long yall, wow an actual plotline how fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soudont/pseuds/soudont
Summary: "Papa, please don't cry, I will be alright."





	1. all reason aside

The sound of her shoes scuffing on the ground was not helping her situation in the slightest.

It simply annoyed her; Not that she could really get more annoyed than she was. Well, actually "annoyed" wasn't the word she was looking for; It was more along the lines of "pissed off to the point that she was about to snap someone's dick off, even though she physically can't do that considering the fact that she's being forced to wear Anti-X gloves so she can't use her powers to snap someone's dick off." The handcuffs around her wrist rattled and clanked against the thin technology wrapped around her skin, only adding fuel to her fire.

The officers holding her arms and quite literally dragging her to her cell both had cold hands. It was uncomfortable, sure, but the fact that she shouldn't be the one being dragged to a prison cell anyway was really the thing that made her ticked. She didn't commit the crime, no. Why the fuck would she? She's a heroine, hell, she's the one who stops these kinds of crimes half the time! Her blood felt like it was boiling against the cold skin on her biceps. She wants to scream and cry at them, telling them to "let her go, dammit!", but even so, the court ruled against her.

_"The court finds Buttercup Utonium guilty. Her sentence is life-time imprisonment."_

For life. _For life_! She couldn't even believe it. After everything she's done for this shitty town, they just throw her away like that! Even when she was _innocent_! She's a hero! She's innocent, damn it!

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the bars sliding open before she was quite literally thrown onto the floor, landing rather harshly on her ass. She managed to scramble to her feet, barely missing the open gate. Her hands gripped the metal bars tightly, lime eyes boring holes into the police officer's back. 

"Fuck you!" She seethed at nobody in particular, head raising upwards towards the ceiling of the prison, "Fuck you, you fucking fucks! Grow some brains!" Her voice ended up breaking, that sickening feeling coming over her again. _Defeat_. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes burned, hot tears pricking at the corners. She blinked; She wasn't willing to let them fall. She wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing _The Toughest Fighter_ cry. She fell limp against the bars, sucking in air through her teeth and quickly hissing it out.

_This shouldn't be happening._

She quickly stood upright, back straightening. She will not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. Not again. She quickly let out a breath, spinning slickly on her heel. Her eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed, and she looked determined. There was no one going to stop her from getting out of here. Nothing was going to stop her. She's fucking _Buttercup Utonium_ , after all! She was a hero, not a criminal! 

Her eyes shot open and her gaze immediately landed on the other human that she forgot would probably be in the cell. Almost immediately, a sense of dread fell over her.

 _This_ really _shouldn't be happening._

Raven-black hair slipped into her cellmate's eyes (which were closed; He seemed to be sleeping) and he looked peaceful. His hands were casually cushioning the back of his head so it wouldn't hurt against the cold brick wall. His legs were crossed; He almost seemed too calm to be in a prison cell. She could feel his familiar dark aura radiating off of him and she wouldn't let anyone ever know it, but it almost intimidated her. _Almost_.

He was wearing green. He was always fucking wearing green; She couldn't judge, though, she did the same most days. You would've thought that the newly opened prison holding the superhuman criminals would have those shitty prison uniforms as well, but this didn't seem to be the case; She had passed many cells holding many of her own arch-enemies, including Mojo Jojo, Fuzzy Lumpkins, and Sedusa, and none of them had that ugly orange jumpsuit on.

She felt her nose crinkle. She would've preferred sharing a cell with anybody but fucking _Butch Jojo_.

Not only was her doppelganger simply infuriating on his own without even trying, he somehow always knew what to do to just barely get under her skin and break her down, making her the most vulnerable. No matter when, no matter where. He knew exactly what to say and what to do. It was a terrifyingly accurate skill, something everyone should fear above even his stupid leader/brother. Yet, everyone was so distracted with the redhead, that they quickly saw past his insanity and accuracy, Butch playing into the role of the stupid, feisty, middle brother, even though he and Buttercup both knew he was too clever to be forgetting about him so easily. It aggravated her to no end, especially since he could so easily outsmart her just like that, but instead he insists on acting like a dumbass, masking his skills so scarily.

She huffed, rubbing her wrists quietly. It slowly dawned upon her that they had slipped her handcuffs off of her before throwing her into that damn cell and she felt somewhat relieved, slowly backing up and sitting on the opposite cot of Butch's (which was honestly just a slab of stone hung by a chain). Her lime eyes glazed over the other superhuman, sight getting caught on the matching pair of gloves on his hands. The golden lines (filled with the Antidote X) on the gloves softly glowed, creating a contrast against the black latex and raven-colored hair it was against. She sighed harshly, eyes falling to her own hands. Her matching pair of gloves glowing against her own lap. It felt uncomfortable; She felt weak. 

"Damn it," She muttered.

She heard shifting sounds out of nowhere and her gaze shot back to the stirring male across the cell. He suddenly rolled over to his side, then onto his stomach, his right leg stretching out behind him and his arms stretching to the front of him. Buttercup watched silently, a small smile threatening to make its way onto her lips. _He looks like a cat_.

His limbs fell and he breathed out loudly before rolling back onto his backside and sitting up straight. He stretched his arms up above his head again, eyes glancing to the side, right at Buttercup. He froze for a moment, emerald eyes barely widening. If it wasn't her who was watching him, someone who was practiced in observing his every movement for some sort of trick, then nobody would've noticed his surprise, especially since it was only for a second before he continued to stretch, a small smirk on his face.

"Hola," His arms dropped down to his sides, feet rolling off the side of the cot, head tilting in mock curiosity, "How's it goin'?"

She scowled at him, crossing her arms across her chest. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of a response. At least not yet, anyway. He didn't deserve it. The smirk fell off his face, replaced with a frown. He ran his fingers through his hair hastily, rolling his eyes obnoxiously. 

"Silent treatment?" Her stare was cold. He sighed in annoyance.

"Look, if you're here to interrogate me, I didn't do shit to help my brothers escape in anyway, so you don't have to both-"

"Does it look like I'm fucking here to interrogate you?!" She snapped, "I'm wearing the same gloves you are! And even if I _was_ here to interrogate you, wouldn't my sisters be here?" That stupid, _stupid_ , Cheshire smile crept back onto his face. She wanted to fucking slap him.

"Not to mention that my brothers are still here, too." His tone was teasing, a glint of amusement in his eyes. She was grinding her teeth. _God, damn it_.

"Okay, you got me to talk," She scoffs, whipping her head away from him, "What do you want, a cookie?"

"Actually, I want to know what you're doing here." He mused, the smug expression falling off of his face and morphing into a thoughtful one. She sighed, visibly slumping. Her gaze traveled towards him again and he raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"Why should I tell you?" She challenged, eyes glaring daggers at the younger male. He crossed his arms.

"Because it looks like you're a prisoner here with me," Butch snarled, "And I don't particularly fucking like you."

"I don't like you either, so shut up already." She spat, rolling her eyes and squeezing her legs together.

"Just fucking tell me, you bitch!" 

"No!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

"You know for someone who doesn't fucking like me, you sure do want to talk to me, don't you?" She snapped. The male made a 'tch' sound, lugging his feet onto his stone cot again and leaning back into his original position of his hands behind his head, emerald eyes slipping shut again. He obviously didn't have another retort because a plain silence fell over the two of them. She glared holes into him, squeezing her arms against her chest tightly and causing her breasts to shift upwards. Her legs felt uncomfortably tight, but she couldn't find it in herself to relax around him. Who knows what he would do? He has a plan, obviously. Butch always clicks some weird plan together at the most random times, calculated carefully to set her off. She fucking _hates_ him.

She's almost certain that he's asleep again, but she won't take the chance to move. She can't risk it. He'll most certainly jump up and pin her and without her powers she's practically helpless. He's obviously physically stronger than her; Although, he has thinner biceps compared to his brother, Brick, he's still lean and fit. She wouldn't have a chance, not without her own super strength. Of course, she _is_ the strongest out of her sisters, so maybe there is some sort of chance. Her eyes scan over him for any sort of weak-looking joint or body part, but they all look the same.

_Of-fucking-course, they do, Buttercup, he's your doppelganger after all. There's no way he'd have any visible weakness! He's too fucking sneaky to show any signs of weakness, you know that. Of course, you could always kick him where the sun doesn't shine.._

"You can relax, you know," She snapped out of her thoughts, eyes widening for a moment, "You look really stiff." Butch's eyes slowly slid open, head turning slightly to gaze lazily at her. 

"You were watching me?" She hissed.

"You were literally glaring at me that entire time and now you're scolding me for glancing at you every now and then?" Butch shook his head, "God, you're a crazy fucking bitch."

"Excuse me?!"

"Will you just fucking take that stick out from your ass?"

"Fuck off! I'm not stiff! Why would I be?!" She practically screeched, body jolting in surprise. He rolled his eyes, sighing in annoyance.

"Seriously, it's okay; I'm not going to attack you or anything." 

"How can I trust that?" She scowled, a suspicious gleam in her eye. Butch scoffed.

"Because we're in fucking prison and if Brick found out that I was causing trouble here, I would get my ass beat, and I'm not in the fucking mood for that recently," He hissed, glaring back at her, "And here's a fucking tip: The guards here aren't worried about killing us. As far as they're concerned, we're immortal and can't even feel pain since we're 'more than human'. They aren't afraid to use force to break us up if necessary. I don't feel like fucking dying either, hence why I'm not going to fucking fight you. You can relax." There was a beat of silence and he could see that she was frozen silent.

".. They're not afraid to kill us?" She whispered. He opened his mouth to reply, but paused, closing his mouth again. He almost pitied her, but he mentally slapped himself. He hates her and that's fucking it.

"They don't give a shit. As far as they're concerned, we're villains with no souls." Butch muttered, eyes slamming shut again. She fell silent again, gaze gliding to the floor. _Villains? Did they think I'm a villain? Someone who saved their lives countless times? That can't be right! I'm no criminal! I'm The Toughest Fighter, a Powerpuff Girl, Buttercup, a heroine!_

She felt tears prick her eyes and she blinked them away again. How could someone like her be reduced to this? Why did nobody believe her? She was framed, damn it! _Framed!_ She sniffled, dragging her feet onto the cot and hugging her knees tightly. She won't cry; She fucking _will not_. There's no way she's going to cry, not in front of Butch. _Butch_. She glanced up at him and sees that he was staring at her again. She glared.

"What the fuck do you want now?"

"I still want to know why you're even here in the first place." He stated. His tone was softer, less harsh, as if he was being more careful. _Fuck him_. Fuck him for seeing her so vulnerable. She stayed silent, glaring holes into his forehead (which was covered by his bangs; It's like his spikes fucking died). He didn't do anything that time, just merely stayed quiet as well. It's was as if he didn't want to push it with her anymore; Like he was bored of it. His emerald eyes were emotionless, but he was still staring at her expectantly. She huffed out of her nose, causing him to sigh and lean back again, giving up, leaving her in silence again. She fiddled with her thumbs.  _Fuck this._

"I was framed," She whispered. He perked up, sitting up immediately. He didn't look surprised, as if he already knew. She cursed him to hell for making her open up like this for no reason. But, of course, he knew; He knew she committed herself to good.

"What for?" He urged her to continue. She gulped.

"Murder." She said it as if it was a curse. At this, his eyes widened.

"They didn't give you the death sentence?"

"They said that I only get life in prison due to the fact that I was a hero and did so much for the city, but they didn't bother to look into the case more. They just found me guilty since the evidence pointed to me. I was sent here instead of getting the electric chair at least, but that's the only positive," She spat at nobody in particular, "Why do you care?"

"I'm your cellmate, you bitch. Of course I would want to know why you're in here," He hissed, "You're so judgmental." 

"In that case, why are you here, you fucking asshole?" She snapped, then watched silently as his eye twitched slightly.

"You're the one who put me in here." He narrowed his eyes at her, looking at her as if she was the dumbest bitch in the world. She shrugged sheepishly, obviously not caring. Although, she almost regretted it; Now, she had to be cellmates with him.

"You're a criminal, of course I did." She grinned at him triumphantly. He looked a bit surprised at her change in mood, but he quickly recovered, replacing that look with a smirk of his own.

"As far as the court is concerned, you're just like me." She paused, grin immediately dropping off of her face. She frowned at him.

"I'm nothing like you."

"We're practically the same person. I'm just significantly worse."

"Fuck off."

"It's true! Just admit it." He stuck his tongue out at her. _Childish shithead_. She snarled at him.

"Absolutely not!" She hissed, "We are nothing like each other! Stop trying to get into my head!"

"Actually," Butch wore that smile he reserved just for her, one that just screamed trouble, "I'm not trying to do that. I'm trying to get you to admit it. You know just as well as I do that I'm your copy."

"Fuck you! Saying we're alike is just a fucking lie!" She put her knees down, slamming her feet onto the floor and standing up and stomping closer to his cot. She towered over him now, a desperate and angry expression lacing her striking features.

"How the fuck is that a lie?" He did the same, meeting her gaze (she was the same height as him, if not an inch shorter), smirk never leaving his face, "Tell me how. We both know I know you better than anyone else, Buttercup."

"Because you- you're a criminal!" She snapped, driving a gloved finger into his chest. He grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers around her own, and pulled her an inch closer. His face was barely an inch away from her's now and she held back a gasp.

"Yeah, but you are too, aren't you? You're here with me, after all." His grin was practically insane. Flinching, she used her free hand to push him, jerking her captured hand away from his. She stepped backwards, falling back onto her stone cot. Butch continued to grin, sitting back down himself, resting his hands behind his head for the third time now. She glared at him after her initial shock faded.

"Fuck you."

"I mean, the guards might yell at us but- mph!" The pillow from Buttercup's cot hit him smack dab in the face. He ripped it away and threw it back, but she caught it. He visibly slumped, visibly wanting to get revenge. She smirked.

"I meant, fuck you, I'm no criminal. I was framed!" She corrected, wrapping her arms around her pillow and squeezing, resting her chin against the top of it. Butch laughed out loud, leaning back into his seemingly favorite position: Hands behind head, legs crossed, sprawled across the cot with his eyes shut.

"I believe it." His tone shared no hint of dishonestly. She glared for a beat, suspicious, but unknowingly sighed softly in relief to herself afterwords.

_Unfortunately, you'd be the first, but thank god there's someone who believes me._


	2. i just can't deny

Sleeping in a cell was a _hell_ of a lot harder than she thought it would be.

Her back ached from the stone and without sheets, there wasn't a comfortable warmth. Not to mention, Butch; She had never actually slept in the same room as a guy before (Save for Mitch, of course, they had a lot of secret sleepovers before). It wasn't that he was disruptive, though. In fact, she could swear that he was the quietest sleeper in this damn prison! There were people snoring obnoxiously loud in different cells than hers (She thinks it's probably Mojo).

She rolled over to her right side and sighed, gaze shifting towards her counterpart. Butch was on his side, facing her, right hand curled into a fist by his head. His legs were together and his knees were bent. The soft glow of the Anti-X gloves illuminated his face just enough to see his expression. His mouth was closed (She thanked _God_ he wasn't a mouth breather) and he seemed the most relaxed she had ever seen him, which was interesting because she'd never thought that he'd been not relaxed before in her presence. She frowned.

She sat up then, once again dragging her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, then resting her chin on the top of her knees. She narrowed her eyebrows at her cellmate. Was he never relaxed around her? She shook her head. How much did she just not know about Butch? Did she even know him at all unlike how she thought she did?

How much more did he know about her than she did about him?

She gulped at the thought. It only hit her then that she never actually thought that she might not have him figured out at all and he consistently seems to know everything about her. Why the fuck did Butch have to be so confusing? And why does nobody believe her when she says that he's just as confusing as fucking _Brick_?

Maybe it's the same reason nobody believes that she was framed; She's unbelievable, maybe? No, that can't be it, right? What if she's just flat out wrong and she's overthinking it? No, that's _definitely_ not it. Blossom is the over-thinker, not her. Besides, if it wasn't true then why does Butch believe it to be? He thought she was believable, so she's not crazy, right?

She mentally groaned. _Great. Now, I'm basing whether or not I'm sane on Butch. Of all people, fucking Butch._

She stared blankly at him for a little while, unwillingly listening to the sound of snoring echoing throughout the jailhouse (She fucking _swears_ it's Mojo), when something caught her eye. Butch's eyebrows furrowed. She sat up straight immediately, chin leaving her knees. She kept her eyes on him, never once leaving and barely even blinking. _Is he waking up or-?_

She watched as Butch's fist clenched and unclenched and he rolled onto his back. His head thrashed and his expression contorted multiple times. She frowned; Not that she was _concerned_ or anything. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers when he made a small whimpering sound. _A nightmare. He's having a nightmare. What the fuck? He was just sleeping peacefully a minute ago! How bipolar is his fucking mind?!_

Suddenly, his eyes shot wide open and he jolted, immediately sitting up and gasping for air. He looked panicked and he scrambled around slightly, gloved hand flying up to grasp his shirt as if checking to see if he was real or not. One drop of sweat slipped down the side of his face. Then his shoulders slumped and he sighed in relief, but then he suddenly stiffened again. That's when he turned his head to face her. She assumed that he was checking if she was awake to see him have a miniature heart attack; Her little assumption was confirmed when his eyes blew wide and he whispered.

"Shit."

"Shit indeed." She whispered back. Butch rubbed his hand across his face, sighing harshly. He crossed his arms, turning his head away from her.

"How much did you see?" He was blunt. She sighed softly.

"All of it."

" _Fantastic_." He grumbled sarcastically, throwing his hands up from his arms in annoyance. She scowled. Why did he have to act so salty? It wasn't her fault she was awake to see him!

Buttercup stared at his gloved hands and wondered if he hated them as much as she did. Probably. 

".. Hey," She started uneasy, unsure of what to expect. She watched as his shoulders twitched a bit in surprise.

"What now?" She rolled her eyes. Does he have to be rude? She's trying to be nice to him _for once_!

"I.." She paused, "I just wanted to ask if you were okay." It was awkward. She didn't even know why she bothered. He stiffened slightly, and she pursued her lips.

".. Fine. I'm fine." It was an obvious lie and they both knew it. Butch turned to her again and his eyebrows furrowed further; Buttercup frowned, raising an eyebrow at him. He slumped.

"Okay, okay. I'm not fine. You win, okay?" He groaned softly, "Can we, like, drop this now? Why do you care anyway?"

"You're my cellmate and, well, as you said, 'that's why I care.'" She did air quotes to further prove her point. It was a lie. She didn't know why she cared at all. However, Butch's lips curled downwards, his frustration visible.

"Damn. I shouldn't have said that, huh?" He shook his head, "Even so, why should I tell you?"

"Again, as you said, 'Because you're my cellmate.'" She smirked at him. His eyes widened slightly, but then they rolled in an (if even possible) elegant way.

"I'm pretty sure I also said that 'I don't particularly like you.' I don't trust you." Her smirk dropped. He was right! Whatever; He shouldn't even bother to tell her! It didn't matter anyway! She huffed slightly, crossing her arms.

"Fine. Whatever."

 

* * *

 

The sun came up slower than ever. She eyelids felt like actual weights. Getting no sleep certainly didn't help her situation- but who could blame her? Sleeping in the same area as her worst enemy? On a slab of stone with no heat source? Knowing damn well that she shouldn't even be there in the first place? It's a real life nightmare. She had ended up staring at the ceiling most of the night. She counted the cracks on the ceiling (there were thirteen, by the way) and was bored after about ten seconds.

She sat up begrudgingly, swinging her legs over the side of the stone and resting her feet on the ground. Her gloved hands rested on her knees. She glared at them. _Black latex. Golden glow. Silver lock in place, impossible to slip out of._

It was pathetic. _She_ was pathetic.

**_Clank!_ **

"Up and at 'em, you two! Let's go!"

Butch sat up abruptly and she flinched, snapping out of her self pity. Her head whipped around to the bars she was locked behind, eyes locking with the guard banging on the metal with a tin can. If looks could kill, he'd be on the ground by now. 

"C'mon, move it!"

Butch groaned lightly, standing and reaching up towards the ceiling to stretch. She watched intently, eyeing his every move. He moved towards the exit of the cell, only turning back to jerk his head towards the exit. He was telling her to leave. She only stood then, following in his footsteps. The guard unhooked the key loop from his belt and fumbled with the keys a small bit, eventually sticking the key in place. Buttercup glanced over at her counterpart, noticing his eyes following every move of the guard. He was studying him; She could only guess that he was plotting an escape. 

The cell door swung open, allowing the two to exit. She couldn't believe how good it felt to get out of there. She and Butch walked behind the guard, who was leading them.

" _Psst,"_ Her eyes widened the smallest bit. Butch was staring at her again, trying to get her attention. She huffed, glaring daggers.

" _What?_ " She hissed at him. He looked straight forward again.

"You're going to want to stick with me. My brothers won't like it, but it's the best shot you got."

"Hold on, what-?" She spat, "What makes you think I'll stick around you? I don't even like you!" Butch whipped his head towards her again, his bangs flinging around and getting messed up. She stiffened slightly; His eyes looked livid, yet his demeanor seemed calm. She would never admit that he intimidated her. Never.

 _"Buttercup,"_ He hissed, "You honestly think you'll survive in here? Almost everyone was put in this place because of you and your sisters. Everyone in here wants revenge. Let's be honest- You're practically their prey. You're fucking lucky me and my brothers aren't out for you yet."

Her eyes widened. He _never_ called her by name with that tone, if he called her by name at all. She could feel the ghostly fingers crawling up her back, causing her to clench her fists. Death was breathing down her neck. _Oh, god._

"Your brothers don't know I'm even here." She mumbled, eyes shifting down to the ground, watching his feet take every step.

"That's why I said 'yet', sweetheart."

"Don't call me that." She glared up at him again, hiding the chills she got from his warning.

"Seriously, though- Don't leave my side, unless you want to be killed within a day." He stared forward again, shoulders relaxing. _When had they stiffened?_

The guard halted, causing her to stop in her tracks. Butch merely glided to the stop, face unchanging. She knew it was because he had been there for a while without really any hope to escape. She frowned. Prison was depressing.

They stopped in front of a large door. The guard gripped the handle and swung it open, revealing the small crowd of prisoners. She gazed across the room before stepping in, recognizing it as a cafeteria. Butch started walking and she followed suit.

_"What's she doing in here?"_

_"It's one of them."_

_"I'm going to kill that fucking bitch."_

She tried to ignore the whispers. She tried to ignore the deadly stares boring holes into her. _Don't let it show. Don't let it show._ She involuntary stepped closer to Butch. She could tell he noticed when he stiffened again. She almost frowned.

"Hey, Mrs. Powerpuff! Don't drop the soap!" A random man yelled. Laughter erupted, maniacal and soft. She gripped her arms, pushing her breasts up, at which another man wolf-whistled. More laughter. She flinched violently. _Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic._ She could feel her heart racing- She stepped closer to Butch again- _Pathetic._ Did she bump into his shoulder?- _Don't be scared. Pathetic. Pathetic._ Butch stopped. She stopped. The laughter stopped. _What?_

She looked up at the crowd. Butch was facing them, and they were facing Butch, eyes wide.

_Did he just growl?_

He turned around, walking back towards the food. She scrambled behind him. _This is pathetic. Why is he being so nice to me?_

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She muttered. Butch rolled his eyes. Buttercup huffed.

"I don't do nice." He picked up a tray.

"You're protecting me for no reason." She accused, grabbing onto a tray as well.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He held his tray out for the cook, who plopped down something that resembled actual slop. She watched as his nose crinkled lightly.

"Yes, you do. Why are you doing it? You don't have anything to gain, do you?" She did the same, getting the same "food" and following him as he began to walk to a table.

"I don't help people. Now, shut up." He hissed, jerking his head towards the table they were approaching. She looked over, noticing the ones they were sharing the table with: His brothers. Brick glared. Boomer just stared curiously, mouth full of slop. She cringed. _That's fucking disgusting._ Butch slammed his tray down onto the fold-up table, plopping down onto the attached stool. She sat next to him, cautiously but steadily.

"Hola," He grinned, "How's it goin'?"

"Butch, I'm going to be blunt," Brick pushed his tray away calmly, before slamming his hands on the table in rage, "What the actual _fuck_?!"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." The middle brother shrugged, poking his slop with his fork. Buttercup sat in silence, watching for any sort of threat.

" _Butch_. A _Puff_?! Are you fucking serious? Are you fucking _crazy_?!" The leader seethed, fist clenching so hard that his knuckles were turning white. 

"It's not a big deal, Brick." Butch rolled his eyes obnoxiously. 

"Yes, it is!"

"Why is she even here, anyway?" Boomer questioned, mouth full. His pointed his fork at her, resting his chin on his palm. Buttercup froze up at that and she squeezed her eyes shut. It was private information! Hell, she only told Butch so far, and he practically forced it out of her! Damn his fucking manipulation skills! And now, Butch was going to tell his brothers. _Oh fuck, she was done for. Fuck him. Fuck him._

"I don't know, dude. She just appeared in my cell." Buttercup's eyes snapped open. 

"Oi, bitch! Why're you here?" Brick hissed, whipping his head towards her. His low pony-tail flew behind him harshly. _Play tough._

"Oi, asshole! Why the fuck do you care?" She spat back, glaring daggers at him. She watched as the youngest brother unclenched his fists, tilting his chin upwards and raising his eyebrows. It was almost ironic how much he looked and behaved like Blossom at times. If it weren't so serious, she'd probably laugh at him right now.

Boomer sat up a little straighter and Butch looked at Brick, then at Buttercup. His eyes were wide. She frowned; She was fairly certain there was some psychic sibling bond happening there, but said nothing of it. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could've sworn she saw the corners of Butch's lips tilt upwards the slightest bit. She moved her gaze back to Brick, eyes connecting. His eyes were fiery, judging. She could feel ice and emerald orbs boring into her, too. Then it hit her; It was judgement time. 

Brick's eyebrows furrowed, then relaxed. He slouched, slouching his arms, and then he nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Butch raised an eyebrow at his younger brother.

"Yes, okay. I don't know why you want her around, but I trust you, Butch. At least, I do more than I trust Boomer."

"Hey!" The blonde exclaimed, pouting, "I'm just as much your brother as Butch!" Brick snickered. Boomer smacked him on the arm and the youngest brother snorted. Buttercup almost smiled; When they weren't acting like assholes, their relationship was almost.. sweet.

"I don't want her around, actually," Buttercup's eyes darted to her counterpart at the sound of his interruption, "If I don't keep her, though, someone else will get to her before we do." 

 _Ah, that's why._ She frowned. _Why do I feel disappointed? It's not like I expected anything more out of him. He's an asshole. We don't like each other. I should've expected that manipulation; He would never help me out of the kindness of his heart._ She shook her head, stabbing the slop with her spoon. The resistance reminded her of a sponge. _Gross._

Brick nodded, but if you squinted, you'd see the glimmer of suspicion in his eye. 

"She's your responsibility."

"I'm aware." Butch stabbed his fork into the top of his slop and stood to go throw it away.

 

* * *

 

In the courtyard, there were elevations. On the lowest area, there were the exercise machines. The other two levels were just grassy area. It was oddly nice for a prison, honestly. She and Butch were sitting on the edge of the second level, right next to the wall. It felt nice to be outside, even if it was still behind closed doors. There wasn't much to do doing courtyard time. She supposed that was why Butch just sat in the corner, watching his brothers bicker over the exercise machines. Brick was trying to get Boomer to use the machines, but the elder kept insisting he was fine with his scrawny build. She fiddled her fingers, examining the gloves once more. They were shiny in the sunlight, and she noticed the sweat on her hands would go through the material. No doubt this was made by her father. She watched the small oxygen bubbles floating around in the Anti-X liquid, tilting her hand to make the bubbles move. It amused her for only a few moments before she slammed her hand back into her lap. She audibly groaned, throwing her head back. She glanced to her left. Butch was staring at her again. _Fucking hell._

"What?" She raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.

"Don't know, honestly. It gets boring watching the same argument every day." He gestured towards his brothers.

"They do this everyday?"

"Unfortunately. Luckily, you've showed up. You're a lot more interesting." He grinned and she glared. 

"More interesting to manipulate? Yeah, fuck you. You're lucky I haven't killed you yet." She spat, crossing her arms. His expression dropped and he groaned.

"You got to be fucking kidding me," He muttered, "You're an ungrateful bitch, aren't you? Seriously. Take that stick out of your ass. You sound like that pink sister of yours, still."

"Fuck you!" She seethed, head beginning to pound with rage. _Who the fuck does he think he is?_

"Oh yeah, sure! If it weren't for me, you would've been dead by now!" He spat.

"Fuck. you." She snarled, staring daggers. He rolled his eyes again and faced his brothers again.

"You could at least thank me." He muttered it like he didn't believe she actually would.

She froze, face relaxing slightly. He's right- again. Ugh, this is pathetic. She doesn't need his help. It's fine. But then again, why shouldn't she? He got her a table, and stopped the prisoners from harassing her. He's literally protecting her (even if it's just to get to her first). This is fucking stupid. No way, _no fucking way_ , is she going to thank him for using her vulnerability against her-

".. Thank you," It was only a whisper, but she saw Butch perk up, "I don't like your reasoning, but I would be dead without you." 

".. You're welcome." 

 _Fuck._ She really _did_ sound like Blossom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's very late, but hi the second chapter is up :-)

**Author's Note:**

> big oof im excited for this ok


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